


Kindness of Strangers

by solidaritysandwichandpie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Young Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 13:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solidaritysandwichandpie/pseuds/solidaritysandwichandpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight year old Dean Winchester doesn't talk much, he doesn't play with the other kids and he seems to have better things to do than be at school. The only time he sits completely still is when he's pouring over a particular book.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kindness of Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by 8x21. Dean doesn't belong to me I just borrow him sometimes. Unbeta'd and originally posted on tumblr. Please feel free to let me know of any mistakes or just leave comments.

Cecily Turner was an observant woman. She liked children which was fortunate for her class of 2nd graders. Ms. Turner cared about her students, or as she called them, her kids. She talked to them about their lives, their siblings, their parents and what they wanted to be when they grew up. She loved coloring with them and laughing at their jokes and she even loved putting bandaids on skinned knees and smashed fingers. She knew all 32 of her kid’s birthdays and celebrated them with cupcakes and a card. Even in such a small town and such a small school, Ms. Turner’s ability to remember details of each of her student’s lives was a small wonder to the parents and faculty of Milo G. Walker Elementary. Ms. Turner drew from an inexhaustible well of patience and compassion and for the last week and a half she had been focusing on the new boy in town.

Dean Winchester concerned her.

She couldn’t say with any certainty that the child was being neglected, though his clothes were sometimes threadbare they were always neat and clean. He always appeared washed and fed even if he did inhale his breakfast and lunch and go back for seconds most days. It wasn’t the fact that he didn’t seem interested in playing with the other children or the fact that he was so quiet, some kids were just born loners. No, what concerned Cecily Turner was the way the child constantly watched the clock and obviously tried not to fidget, like there was something important that he needed to check on. It was his eyes, deep green and looking far too old to belong to an 8 year old. It was also the way that he sometimes watched the other kids being dropped off by their parents in the morning. Especially the kids who’s mothers embarrassed them by insisting on kissing them goodbye. Judging from the look on the child’s face, Cecily Turner had a sneaking suspicion that no one ever hugged and kissed Dean hello or goodbye.

On days that it rained, Ms. Turner’s students spent recess in the classroom playing board games or reading. This was such a day, gloomy and dark with the wind howling around the metal roof of the school and rain driving against the windows. Ms. Turner had just broken up an argument between two girls playing Connect Four when her attention was drawn to Dean. The boy was standing in front of the bookshelves that lined the classroom, tugging on the hem of his long sleeved flannel and staring intently at the shelves with a small frown. Leaving the girls to their game, she wound her way across the room to stand at Dean’s side.

“You can read one if you want Dean.” The boy started and shuffled back a few inches but didn’t say anything. “They’re there for everyone to read, I mean if you want to.” Dean remained silent but turned his gaze back to the shelf and chewed his bottom lip. “Was there one that you were thinking about reading?” Ms. Turner watched the boy chew his lip a bit more harshly and give a quick shake of his head. “Well if you decide on one, you can take it back to your desk and read it. Just make sure you return it at the end of the day okay?” When Dean’s only response was to nod slightly and continue staring at the bookshelf Ms. Turner sighed. She returned to her desk and spent the rest of recess wondering what she was going to do about Dean Winchester.

The next day was just as dark and dreary as the day before and once again the 2nd grade students were occupying their time with board games and reading and a few of the more mischievous boys trying to catch goldfish out of the tank near the window when they were sure the teacher wasn’t looking. Ms. Turner had just rescued her poor fish from the hands of Timmy Magers when her eyes once again fell on Dean. The boy was again standing in front of the bookshelves. He reached out tentative fingers to brush along the spine of a book. She watched as he stood like that for what seemed like minutes until he slowly dragged the book from the shelf and carried it back to his desk. Ms. Turner only had time to smile briefly before she rushed to break up a scuffle that broke out over a game of Shoots and Ladders.

Thankfully, the next day was bright and sunny. Ms. Turner didn’t know that she could handle another day of being cooped up with thirty two 2nd graders who were becoming more and more restless with every day spent inside. She rubbed her temples and tried to concentrate on the papers in front of her that she was grading. She jumped a little at the sound of a small cough and looked up to see Dean standing in the doorway of the classroom shifting from foot to foot.

“Dean is everything alright? Why aren’t you outside?”

The child cleared his throat uncertainly and gestured to the bookshelf. “Can I just read?”

Ms. Turner frowned slightly and glanced at the shelves. “Books are usually for rainy days Dean. We usually expect students to play outside when it’s nice.” Dean’s face scrunched before he ducked his head and started to turn away. Ms. Turner sighed and called after him. “I suppose if you would rather read though you could. Did you finish your book yesterday?”

Dean nodded slowly and looked at his feet, scuffing his heel back and forth across the tile. “I wanted to read it again though. It was good. I don’t ‘member every part though. I thought if I read it again maybe I could ‘member every part so I could tell my brother.”

Ms. Turner smiled softly “You have a brother? How old is he?” Dean cleared his throat again, this was probably the most words she had heard the child speak in two weeks. “He’s 4. He’d like the stories even if I can’t show him the pictures in the book.”

A four year old brother, Cecily thought, maybe that’s why Dean was so anxious to get home every day. “I usually don’t let students take home books but if you promised to bring it back tomorrow, maybe you could take it home tonight and read it to your brother.”

Dean shook his head furiously. “I just want to read it again to make sure I ‘member everything.”

“Alright.” Ms. Turner watched as Dean picked up the book and settled himself into his desk. He glanced up at her quickly and flashed a small smile before lowering his head again to pour over the book, green eyes hungrily taking in every word. They spent the rest of recess like that with only the sound of pen scraping against paper and turning pages to break the silence.

The next day’s recess passed much the same way. Again, Dean asked to spend the break inside reading and again she let him. Again, at the end of recess, Dean returned the book to the shelf and settled quietly in his seat, biding his time until the final bell. At the end of the day Ms. Turner was packing up her things when curiosity struck. She walked to the shelf and found the book Dean had been reading. She picked it up and turned it over, musing. The Adventures of King Arthur. The kid could have done worse. Ms. Turner spent the drive home imagining little Dean Winchester reciting, as best he could from memory, tales of King Arthur and his knights to his little brother. It was a shame his brother wouldn’t get to see the illustrations.

The next day at recess Ms. Turner once again offered to let Dean take the book home if he would promise to bring it back the next day. Once again, Dean shook his head as he plucked the book from the shelf and returned to his desk. “I’m moving so I better leave it here.”

Ms. Turner leaned back in her chair. “Moving? You just moved here. Where are you moving to?” Dean hunched over the book again and muttered, “Some place in Iowa, dad got a new job there.” Ms. Turner thought it sounded a bit rehearsed but let the subject drop. After a few minutes of silence she saw the tension in Dean’s small shoulders ease and his eyes widen then squint again as he absorbed himself in the book.

Cecily turned over the problem that was Dean Winchester in her mind off and on for the remainder of the day. No wonder the boy seemed reluctant to make friends if he knew he wasn’t going to stay long. She hoped his father really did have a new job in Iowa. Cecily had a feeling that the boy could use some stability in his life.

When the bell for the last break rang, Ms. Turner waited until all her kids had wandered into the hall before she plucked The Adventures of King Arthur from the bookshelf and made her way to Dean’s desk. She unzipped the backpack hanging on the back of the chair and slid the book inside, glancing around to make sure no one was watching she also slid a small note into the front of the book.

_Dean,_

_I hope your brother likes the pictures. Don’t worry about bringing it back._

_Good luck,_

_Ms. Turner_

Hopefully Dean wouldn’t discover the book until he was well away from school. Ms. Turner slid back behind her desk just before the first student ambled through the door and smiled to herself.


End file.
